Dmitri…
I've been in ambushes before, so I know the signs.
That night when sixteen Albanians closed in on us at one of our own clubs, and I was tipped off by the sweaty guy at the end of the bar who didn't quite cover his mafia tattoo.
Or, the Di Stefano Mafia, the fucking idiots, who tried to steal one of our partner's gun shipments from our own dockyards, thinking we wouldn't notice the change in dock security. We circled their crew and lit up the night sky with so many bullets that our dock foreman had to call it in to dispatch as fireworks for the Chinese New Year. It was May. No one questioned it.
Even worse, my twenty-sixth birthday surprise party, where Roman attempted to lead me into a dark room without the common decency of a fair warning. He had the audacity to be upset that I'd already drawn my gun when the lights went on, everyone screaming "Happy Birthday!"
So, when I find Will Grand chatting amiably with the Manhattan Planning and Licensing Board, I know it's an ambush. Sadly, one that I can't end quickly and easily with gunfire. Given the insolent grin he gives me, a bullet is almost too tempting.
I'm already in a bad mood because I was forced to leave Ava this morning, warm and sweet in my bed. After her nightmare, she slept like the dead until around midnight.
Late last night…
"Are you hungry?" I'd asked.
"Yes, please," she mumbled, still half asleep, following me into the kitchen.
"What looks good?" I open my fridge to see rows of neatly stacked meal containers. She examined the labels: seafood risotto, stout-braised lamb shanks, chicken Kiev…
"Do you have peanut butter and jelly?" she asked.
Smothering a grin, I shut the fridge door. "We can do that."
We sat at the counter and ate our peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, an item I find disgusting and haven't willingly consumed since maybe the age of five, but if it made her happy...
She told me about surgery that day. "The way the occlusion blocked the large intestine should not have been remedied by Ella's transfer of the healthy tissue to the blocked area, but it did. It was so fascinating to watch," she said, taking a huge bite of her peanut butter and jelly sandwich. "So few men can stomach hearing about surgery," she said. "It's so refreshing to talk to a civilian who doesn't want to vomit up his dinner after talk about a large intestine turning septic."
"Well, sinceI'musually the one that sends them to the ER, I can't very well be squeamish, can I?" I said lightly, but I see the dichotomy between us and wonder if my father felt the same when he met my mother; how my hands maim and kill, and hers heal.
"How did your parents meet?" she asked, putting her sandwich down.
I almost choked on my vodka. "It's a long story."
That started with a mistaken identity, a kidnapping, and a forced wedding…I thought.
"Was she a doctor when they met?" Ava asked with a slow smile. "Maybe, they saw each other across a crowded ER - wherehehad sent someone - and the rest is history?"
"Actually, no," I said. "She was in pharmaceutical research. She very much wanted to be a doctor, but she didn't have the money to get through med school. Her brother had stolen her inheritance."
"Well, that's disgusting." She chuckled humorlessly. "My family has six children. There won't be any inheritance." Before I could ask more about her family, she pushed ahead. "So, how did she end up as a surgeon?"
"My father saw how much she wanted it, and he had contacts."
She rolled her eyes. "Of course,of coursehe had contacts."
"She finished her degree much in the way you are doing now," I explained. "Working under supervision to build her experience, patching up trauma patients. One of her colleagues helped her create some new medical innovations with burn treatment and abdominal surgery."
"That's nice," she smiled. "That your father understood what this meant to her. Watching them at Adam's wedding, I could tell they love each other very much, even though your father is…" She was searching for a nice way to say, 'terrifying and aloof.' "Reserved," she said.
I bit back a grin when she winced, getting off the stool and despite her protests, I carried her back to bed. Because I wouldn't be a gentleman if I let her fall asleep with a sore pussy, I wedged my shoulders between her thighs, licking and stroking her until her nails dug into my shoulders and she cried out for a higher power.
"No god to save you here, Magpie," I grunted, kissing her, my lips and chin still wet from her orgasm. "Only me."
Currently…
Sex was so good with Ava that my dick is holding it against me that he was forced to leave his place between her legs. I should be focused on my presentation to the planning board but first, I have to deal with my treacherous dick getting instantly hard as I think about Ava last night.
